


The Cripple and the Bastard

by Among_Walkers_and_Angels



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Fanfiction, Fighting, Kattegat, Kidnapping, Love, Norse vikings, Original Characters - Freeform, Pagans, Scars, Sexual Content, Verbal Abuse, Violence, battles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-03-12 00:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13535841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Among_Walkers_and_Angels/pseuds/Among_Walkers_and_Angels
Summary: "Because that is what you and I are, Ivar The Boneless; and all we will EVER be!" She seethed, face dangerously close to his own. Her Emerald eyes burning with such an intense fiery rage, that it actually made him pull back. Fearing that those same eyes would burn a hole right through him. "A Cripple...and a Bastard!"





	1. The Blacksmiths Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time attempting Vikings Fanfiction...so I apologize if it's a little rough. It has also been a long time since I've actually written anything as well! So I of course welcome any constructive criticism you can offer! I will also try and forewarn of any triggering content within chapters etc. Abuse being the biggest one for now. Happy reading!

The cart and horse thundered along the road loudly. Farmers and fisherman alike pausing from their work to investigate the noise as it that passed them by. Whispering to one another in curiosity as they watched the older man and young woman that traveled road; their destination fast approaching in the distance. The young woman shrugged off the stares as she kept her eyes forward, ignoring the dull ache that presented in her feet from days of seemingly endless travel. Her father resting comfortably in the cart that carried all their supplies and belongings that were needed for the long journey to their newest home. 

The Village of Kattegat. 

The mans voice droned on and on but she couldn't be bothered with his ramblings as she took in the beautiful scenery that lay before her very eyes. Her father had caught word months ago that King Ragnar Lothbrok was in need of a skilled Blacksmith to build weapons for the upcoming raids, and he was more than eager to offer his assistance...for a price of course. Everything with her father came with a price. Even his own daughter. The young woman rolled her eyes at the thought. He was such a vile, greedy man. But she knew well enough that he would not be able to take near the kind of advantage of the Viking King as he thought. The stories she had heard...oh the stories. Ragnar was not to be taken for a fool as her father thought, as he was unlike the typical Jarl's he was used to.

"Are you even listening?!" The sharp, familiar sting of pain across her cheek was what finally grabbed her attention, prying her from her thoughts. Turning toward her father she grit her teeth to keep from receiving further punishment for her sharp tongue. Considering it often found her in more trouble than necessary. She nodded in acknowledgment and he continued, narrowing his dark eyes as he glared down at her small from the cart. 

"You listen here, whelp! You are to be on your best behavior. Is that to be understood?" The young woman nodded. "Good. I will not have you running about like a child! Especially in presence of someone as important as King Ragnar! First time I catch you screwing about instead of doing you job, it'll be a beating. Is that clear?"

"Yes...Father." She replied. Rolling her eyes as she turned her attention to the town that was now within her reach; and how she longed to simply disappear within it's depths. Never to be bothered by the man she unfortunately called Father, again.

She stopped near the back of the cart as they reached the gates, a young viking man -- no more than maybe four or five years older than herself -- and several shieldmaiden's, motioning for them to stop. The young man speaking with her father as she showed the contents of the carts to the maidens, who seemed pleased with their findings, nodding to the man that everything was satisfactory. The young man smiled, a beautiful sight, the young woman observed.

"My father will be please with your arrival." The voice was deep, probably even frightening to some, but she could detect the notes of unspeakable kindness that lie within his voice. His light blue eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as he turned his gaze to her own. Frowning slightly as he noted that she had most likely walked this entire way on foot as there was no room in the small cart, and the spare horse appearing untouched. 

"Please, follow me." He gestured, leading them through the gates and toward the Great Hall.

"Keep your mouth shut! ... Understood?" Her father growled low enough for only her ears to hear. But the bone crushing grip he laid to her arm, one that was sure to bruise, did not go unnoticed by the man in front of them as he glanced back discretely. He was unmistakably a Ragnarsson,and she had noted that tidbit of information when he spoke earlier at the gate of his father being pleased. 

Her father truly was an unobservant fool.

"So, this is the famed Blacksmith I have heard so much about!" The voice boomed loudly as the Viking King approached. His Queen and remaining sons not far behind. He father immediately released her arm at the unexpected appearance. The Viking Kings impressive height towering over the both of them as they greeted one another.

"It is a true honor." The young woman had to resist the urge to roll her eyes as her father all but threw himself at the Viking Kings feet. Ragnar chuckling lightly as he waved the actions off. "I am Guunbjorn, The fierce. Famed Blacksmith of Norway!" The King seemed less than impressed with the introduction, but hid it well. Brushing her father off as he gestured to his own family.

"The pleasure is all ours. I am Ragnar, as I am sure you already know." He grinned at the mans annoyance, blue eyes shining vibrantly with amusement as he appeared less than pleased to be spoken to by the King like he was an idiot. 

"This is my wife, Queen Asluag." He gestured to the tall, beautiful, woman to his left. "And my sons," turning his attention to the young Vikings that stood behind him. "Bjorn, Hvitserk, Sigurd, Ivar...and I believe you have already met Ubbe." He gestured to the man that stood just behind them. Her father tensing noticeably, but smiling nevertheless.

"A pleasure." He father ground out, forcing a smile.

"And who might you be." The young woman turned her attention to the Viking King as he acknowledged her. Bowing her head in greeting as she starting to speak before being cut off by her father.

"My daughter." Gunnbjorn spoke up, dismissing her presence. "No one of importance really. She assists me with my forge in exchange for remaining in my care. She is a bastard, you see. Good for nothing whore her mother was...a shame really." She could feel her ears flaming red at the word Bastard, and while true, she took spite in how her father relished in making it known wherever they went. Making sure she was known as the embarrassment to her family. Shaming her in such ways to keep her from ever finding a suitable husband someday. But this situation seemed, different. The announcement of her parentage only bringing a larger smile to the Viking Kings face as he brushed the girls father off...again.

"And what might you call yourself?" He smiled warmly at her, reaching out to take her hand in greeting. Placing a kiss to her knuckles as he watched the Blacksmith fume from the corner of his eye. "Bastard Daughter of Gunnbjorn, The Fierce." Pressing a second kiss to her hand, a low chuckle passed his lips, the sensation practically vibrating up her arm as he stood upright once more, smiling down on her.

"Yara." She replied, her voice catching the attention of the Ragnarsson who was seated on a crate outside the market stall to their right. Intense Sapphire blue eyes boring into her almost immediately, sending a chill down her spine that she was quick to brush off.

"Pleasure to meet you, Yara.” Ragnar smiled warmly. "I am sure one of my sons would be most pleased to escort you to your new home while I show your father to his Forge." He stated, a playful sparkle in his blue eyes, turning with his arm around the older man, ushering them forward before Gunnbjorn could voice his protest at the thought of not one, but four Ragnarsson's escorting his daughter. Bjorn having joined his father in escorting the Blacksmith.

"Well...that was...interesting." The voice of Ubbe came from behind her. "He will surely be kept occupied for sometime though." He chuckled. "Follow me and we shall get you settled." Yara nodded, grabbing a heavy pack from the cart and slinging it over her shoulder with ease. The remaining brothers exchanging glances before following suit..well, all but the youngest who drug himself into the seat on the cart and followed along behind. The young woman noting the truth behind the rumors of the youngest Ragnarsson being a cripple.

It was a short walk to the pit house that was to be her new home. It wasn't terribly small like their last home had been, plenty big enough to have at least some space from her father. She sighed, tossing the pack to the floor as they entered the home one at a time unloading the cart. Sigurd making snide comments to his brother, Ivar, that manned the cart and horse still. Watching as his piercing blue eyes blazed with an intense rage, even though he chose not to acknowledge the older boy. But Yara could feel the tension seeping into the air like a thick fog. Anger clenched within her at the thought of how the older boy was treating his own brother.

"You do not say much...do you?" Hvitserk noted from his perch on the fence outside, smirking sheepishly before biting into an apple that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Yara simply cocked an eyebrow at him before returning her attention to the cart that needed unloading.

"Bet I could get her to say all kinds of things." Sigurd laughed, a cocky smirk plastered to his face as he perched on the fence next to Hvitserk. Opening his mouth to no doubt add in whatever vulgar ways he planned to achieve this. But instead he was silenced by the axe that had found its way into the fence between his open legs, startling him backwards onto the ground with a dull 'thud'.

"I would advise you against finishing that sentence...Brother." Ivar spoke up, eyes trained on the second axe that Yara gripped tightly in her left hand. "It appears, that this one is not like the other girls who are charmed so easily by your Serpent like ways." Sigurd sat up with a wide eyed expression that quickly turned into one of anger.

"You Bitch-" He spat, climbing to his feet as she raised the second axe, Ubbe stepping in to silence his brother from finishing a sentence that was sure to be his last had he continued to speak. A firm grip wrapping it's self around Yara's wrist from above and plucked the axe from her grasp after applying a little force.

"That is enough, children." Ubbe spoke firmly, but fought back an amused smile as he fixed his gaze on Yara. Pleased she wasn't one to tolerate his brothers nonsense.

Turning with a fixed glare, Yara snarled quietly as she took back the axe that Ivar held out to her. Fiery green eyes boring into ones of Sapphire blue. An animalistic grin gracing his dark features as she snatched it from his hand. Chuckling to himself quietly as Sigurd skulked away, brushing himself off as he muttered profanities at the girl under his breath.

"You will have to forgive my Brother's." Ubbe apologized. "Manner-less Heathens they are."

"It is fine." Yara ground out from between clenched teeth as she dislodged the axe from the fence. Hvitserk scooting away from her ever so slightly just to be safe as she slipped it back through her belt. "I thank you for your help." She stated. "But I should be taking the rest of our things to the forge to be unloaded now..." She cocked her hip out to the side and crossed her arms as she stared up at Ivar.

If looks could kill.

"You expect me to move?" He laughed harshly. "I do not think so." He narrowed his gaze back her. "I am a Cripple after all...you would not expect me to crawl such a distance...would you?"

"Ivar..." Ubbe's voice warned from behind Yara carefully.

Ears burning with annoyance and rage, Yara turned sharply on her heel. Boot digging a hole into the dirt where she'd been standing as she stalked off toward the familiar sounds of metal being worked. Ignoring the amused laugh that came from behind her and the sound of the cart setting into motion once more. Ignoring the gaze she could feel boring into her very soul with every step she took. Leaving her feeling completely exposed and flustered. Never had anyone been able to get under her skin so easily and with just their presence alone it seemed like...but this son of Ragnar clearly had a talent very few possessed, and the worst part was, he knew it immediately, and would no doubt only continue to use it against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated on - 8/21/18  
> So as you can tell everyone here is still alive and well. The chapter is probably a little rough but bare with me! It's been probably a good two years since I've actually written anything lol so I'm trying to find my groove again. The next chapter will be a little more descriptive of Yara's character. If I can figure out a way to link pictures I will also add those to the next chapters notes as well for a visual of what she looks like as well. Let me know what you guys think!


	2. Celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo...I hope everyone liked the previous chapter? Like I said, sorry if it was kind of rough. Anywho...I will have an image at the end of the chapter of who Yara's character is inspired by, for visual. Something else that I will add here is, that she's roughly around 5'5" height wise. Putting her shorter than average compared to most of the character. Happy reading!
> 
> SHOUT OUTS: - [crazyevildru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyevildru/pseuds/crazyevildru) \- Thank you so much for your comment! I'm glad you're enjoying it!
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: None
> 
> LINKS: Let me know if they work!
> 
> [Yara](http://i1376.photobucket.com/albums/ah17/I_Can_Dig_Elvis/Yara%20viking_zps1isy1rls.jpeg)
> 
> [Yara's Dress](http://i1376.photobucket.com/albums/ah17/I_Can_Dig_Elvis/Yaras%20dress_zpsg1x1vhmq.jpg)
> 
> [Yara's Necklace](http://i1376.photobucket.com/albums/ah17/I_Can_Dig_Elvis/yaras%20necklace%202_zpsjwgaxtwy.jpeg)

He knew she could feel that intense Sapphire blue gaze of his, trained on her for the remainder of the day. Watching as she unpacked the wagon and put things in their respected place for tomorrow. Talking with the occasional passing farmer of warrior who would stop to inquire about the tools or weapons they needed made. Her father keeping a watchful eye on her as she worked, making sure she never spoke to one person for to long. In fear of what? Who could say for certain. 

All Ivar knew was that the very sight of that Blacksmith made is blood boil with anger. Irregardless of the young woman being his daughter, so to speak, it still angered him to witness a wild spirit such as Yara being held down. More than anything, by someone else's past wrong doings. It also made him angry at the thought that something, or someone, so insignificant as a Blacksmith and his daughter could bring forth such useless emotions; things he cared not to be bothered with, and it made a different kind of anger and hatred course through his very core as he watched young woman before him. Blue eyes filled with loathing and wonder.

She had this kind of grace about her, as if she weighed no more than that of a feather drifting aimlessly through a warm summers breeze. Her actions as she worked were careful, yet precise. Often times it almost appeared as if most people around her forgot her presence; even if only for a second, almost as if she was striving to be...invisible? Little did she know that her delicate features betrayed her so much. 

Those intense Emerald green eyes were ever so watchful of the goings on around her. Filled with a familiar glimpse of longing as her gaze lingered here or there on the passing shield maidens and common folk. But it never lingered for to long. Always seeming to catch herself just in time, stowing away any sort of emotion that may have showed through as she busied herself with whatever menial task was at hand. Her small, delicate hands, pausing every now and again to push stray strands of dark brown hair back from her face. Seemingly frustrated that they chose to fall from her braid in an attempt to distract and agitate her. 

She was truly unlike anything he had ever seen before.

While most of the woman of Kattegat possessed height, fair skin, and golden hair; this young woman, Yara, wasbuilt of a smaller frame. Her skin more Olive tone than fair, and her hair of the deepest shades of brown. Almost like that of a bears thick pelt in the dead of Winter. Thus by far, setting her apart from any other woman he knew. 

She was unique. Making up for what she lacked in height, with the fiercest attitude he'd yet to encounter in any woman before. Few could stand up to the Ragnarsson's with such ease, but she had made it look so simple.

'What gives her the right to be so...perfect?!'

He snarled at the thought, brushing it aside as he noted it was getting dark. There was to be a celebration tonight in honor or their new guests and he was to be present, of course, as were the rest of his brothers. Ivar rolled his eyes at the thoughts of being stuck listening to his older siblings fawn over the new woman the whole evening. 

But he knew if he failed to be present, at least for a short while, his mother would have his hide for it. So with one effortless motion, he lowered himself to the ground from the crate he'd been seated on most of the afternoon, ignoring the dull ache in his back and legs from staying in one spot for so long...and with one final snarl at the girl cleaning up the forge, he set off crawling for the Great Hall. Ignoring the feel of those Emerald green eyes that acknowledged his presence, watching as he disappeared from sight.

 

 

Yara had worked for at least another hour before things were finally finished and every tool was put away in its proper place. Dusting her hands against her breeches before closing up and setting off to go change for the celebration that was already well underway. Having been ordered to finish with the cleaning up and putting away of things before she was allowed to leave; and she dared not disobey. 

Heaving a sigh, she stared off into the distance, having caught sight of Ragnar's youngest son just before he disappeared from her line of vision. Knowing good and well he'd been observing her since her arrival. Though she couldn’t help but feel curious as to why he would take such an interest in someone such as herself. But the thought didn't linger for long as she entered her home to find two young female Thralls waiting. A hot bath ready and clean clothes laid out for the festivities the evening held in store.

Her upper lip curled in a faint snarl as she caught sight of the crimson dress laid out on her bed, but she dared say nothing. Instead motioning for the Thrall's to leave the room as she stripped out of her work clothes and sunk into the bath. One of the two girls returning some time later to help wash and plait her hair. Two small braids on either side of her head were braided tightly to her scalp. The rest pulled back and secured with a tie, falling down her shoulders to just above mid-back.

She waved off the Thrall's once more as they attempted to help her dress, stating angrily that she was not a child and could dress herself. Having done it many times for the past eighteen years of her life. Pulling the laces tight, she settled on one of her wide leather waist cinchers in favor of the belt that had been laid out next to the dress. Cinching it tightly as well before looking to the Thrall's for approval. The older of the two giving a shy smile and nod, briefly helping apply the thin lines of charcoal around her eyes before leaving to clean up the mess from the tub. 

Yara sighed as she gave herself a once over. The body of the dress was a deep Crimson and the sleeves layered with a soft cream. It was cut low in the shoulders and bust area, revealing a fair amount more of her cleavage than she was used to, or comfortable with. The waist cincher pushing her breasts up even farther...it was bound to make her father fume angrily the moment he saw her.

She smirked a little at the thought, choosing to leave behind the fur for her shoulders as the brisk Spring air felt pleasant against her skin. Pausing only for a moment to rummage through her things for her mother's necklace. Clasping the stone around her neck before setting off for the Great Hall.

By the time she had reached the Great Hall, Yara was ready to crawl under the nearest table and hide. All eyes seemed to be trained on her wherever she looked, making her realize that choosing not to wear the fur had most likely been a poor judgement call. She tried her best to stick along the wall, away from prying eyes, gladly accepting a cup of ale and downing the liquid in several large gulps before holding her cup out to be refilled by the wide eyed, young thrall boy, who had apparently never in his life seen a woman's cleavage before. 

Yara scoffed at his expression, rolling her eyes she snatched her cup back and moved on to a more secluded corner. Watching as people mingled, ate, sang and drank until they couldn't see straight. The hall roaring with so many voices that she had not heard the footsteps approach and take up residence beside her.

"Enjoying yourself, I hope?" She tensed at the deep voice that was dangerously close to hear ear; sending a chill down her spine. Straightening herself she gave a nod, choosing to avoid eye contact with the pale blue eyes that were trained on her. The large hand of Ragnar's second oldest son coming into her field of vision with another cup of ale that she willingly accepted. Sipping at this one in a more polite manner, given her current company.

"Yes...thank you." Yara replied, forcing a small smile in an attempt to make friendly conversation. Frowning when Ubbe chuckled and leaned back against the wall. "Is something amusing?"

"You are clearly the most uncomfortable person in this room." He pointed out with a kind smile. "Yet you choose to lie at the benefit of others. Why?"

"Well..." She licked over her lips nervously, keeping her eyes forward as she spoke. "It would be terribly rude to out right admit to a Son of Ragnar that I do not wish to be here...in an uncomfortable dress...being started at by every man in this room like I'm about to be ravaged the second I turn my back." She admitted. The laugh that erupted past Ubbe's lips startled her more than it should have. Taking a moment to compose herself she turned, glancing up at him with narrowed green eyes.

"While it might rude, it is true." He smiled. "But there is an easy enough way out of it." His breath tickled her neck gently as he leaned down closer to her ear, causing her skin to feel flushed, knowing for a fact her ears were tinged red out of embarrassment. 

"Follow me." She did not resist as his large hand gently gripped her elbow and guided her forward through the crowd and toward the large table where his family sat. Her heart sped up uncomfortably in her chest as the Queen caught sight of her, motioning for them to come over, Ubbe obliging.

"I knew that dress would look wonderful on you." Aslaug beamed brightly, standing to hold Yara out at arms length to have a better look. "You look very beautiful."

"Thank you." Yara replied bowing ever so slightly. "Especially for the dress. It is much nicer than anything I own."

"Think nothing of it. Enjoy yourself." The Queen smiled in response before returning to their table. Ragnar lifting his glass in your direction with a smile and giving his own nod of approval. Seeing both his parents to be satisfied, Ubbe lead them forward and out the back of the Great Hall. 

The cool night air a welcome feeling as it filled her lungs, sighing as Ubbe's grip left her arm as he continued to lead them through the darkness and towards the treeline. They ventured a mile or so up a hill before reaching a smallclearing that over looked the Harbor surrounding Kattegat.

Your appearance was greeted by a chorus of drunken cheers and shouts from Ubbe's brothers as you stepped through the treeline...all aside from Ivar clapping him on the shoulder before offering you both ale. 

"I see you brought company." Hvitserk smiled brightly as he handed Yara a cup of ale and motioned for her to sit by the fire with everyone else. Sigurd moving to leave the only available spot next to Ivar. Yara muttered something under her breath before taking a seat with a glare.

"Isn't it rude to leave your own celebration?" Sigurd spoke up, glare fixed intently on Yara as she took a drink. Rolling her eyes she simply shrugged the rude comment off as she stared into the fire.

"I believe my father is having enough fun for the both of us." She snapped back, cold green gaze falling on the boy just across from her. He scoffed in response but said no more, most likely fearing that she had an ax hidden beneath her dress as he shifted uncomfortably. Recalling the days earlier event. Taking another drink, Yara did her best to disguise the smug smirk that graced her lips.

"Leave her be." Bjorn chimed in lazily. "It is not like the rest of us have much room to talk." He gestured to the rest of the group as he leaned back.

"He has a point." Hvitserk added, dodging the poorly aimed ale cup from Sigurd that just barely missed his head. Resulting in a tussle between the two brothers that soon went ignored as conversation started up again. Yara remaining quiet as she observed the brothers bantering back and forth; all to aware of the blue gaze that was fixed on her form. Making her shift uncomfortably as her hands fiddled with the hem of her dress, suddenly pretending to be interested in whatever nonsense Ubbe and Bjorn were arguing about. But that blue gaze seemed almost inescapable no matter how far she shrank into herself.

What seemed like hours passed and eventually, when no one was paying attention, she slipped away and ventured off toward the cliffs edge to overlook the water below. The moon having finally risen high enough that it's reflection danced across the water, the stars twinkling around it in their own sort of celebration. 

Yara inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as she relaxed for the first time since they had left her village to come here. She knew she should be getting back soon, but it felt nice to not be under the scrutinizing gaze of her father, even if only for a short while. Even if she would eventually come to regret it...and she always did. It never mattered how far gone with drink he was, he always noticed her absence. Always looking for an excuse to blame her for something.

"I can assure you, he is to far distracted this evening to notice you are gone." The voice shook her from her thoughts as she glanced over to find that Ivar had found where she wandered off too. Seated beside her as he overlooked the water as well. "My father made sure of that."

"I shall have to remember to thank him." Yara replied softly, chin resting atop her knees as her brows pulled together as she stared out over the water.

'Was she really that easy to read?'

"It is your eyes." He stated simply as if reading her thoughts. Watching from the corner of his eye as Yara picked her head up, tilting it to the side like a curious pup as she stared at him. "They show more emotion than you would like to think. It makes it easy for someone like me to read what you are thinking." He clarified, gesturing to his legs. "One of the many perks of being a cripple. I spend a lot of time watching people."

"So I have noticed." Yara replied. "But, I would not think me as easy to read as you do...for there are many things you do not about me." Pushing herself to her feet she brushed leaves and grass from the skirts of her dress.

"While that is true," Ivar turned, blue eyes looking up at her with a smug grin that even in the dark, she could see perfectly. "You are afraid of your father...are you not?" He watched as the corner of her upper lip curled ever so slightly into a snarl at his comment.

"Goodnight...Ivar." She forced out, her jaw clenched tightly as she ignored the blue gaze that followed as she turned to leave. Watching as she disappeared into the treeline and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated on - 8/22/2018  
> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Sorry I'm slow getting them up. It's takes me a little longer to write than it used to. Having a very busy toddler is hard. But anywho...thank you too those that have checked it out so far! I love hearing what you guys think. Sooooo, I will do my best to try and add a shout out in the beginning notes of each chapter for those that leave comments! You guys rock ^_^


	3. Blood, Sweat & Steel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED on 8/24/2018  
> Sorry this chapter is sort of short and kinda lame. I was trying to think of a good way to get Ivar and Yara more involved and starting to build a foundation of trust. Also, sorry for the jump and cliffy! On a high note, I bet you can guess who we get to meet next chapter!? Anywho...sorry if this chapter sucks... Happy reading!
> 
> SHOUTOUT: [crazyevildru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyevildru/pseuds/crazyevildru) \-- You're awesome and your comments keep my motivated to update sooner! 
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Abuse and mention of suicidal thoughts.

Yara awoke the next morning to the dull aching throb of too much drink. A groan leaving her lips as she sat up, pushing the furs aside as she stood, giving s small stretch as she grabbed her work clothes. She washed and got dressed before preparing a small meal for her father and laid out his own clothes for the day. Noting that he was still sleeping heavily, and would probably remain that way for several more hours; if not the entire day. Not that she minded the days he didn’t show up to work…but Gods help her if he showed up in a foul mood. 

Tidying up her bed, she took her leave as she stepped out into the brisk morning air, relishing in the stillness and quiet of the morning. Watching as the sky started to gradually lighten, the sun making it’s ascent from behind the mountains and into the sky as it woke for the day. But judging by the clouds that gathered along the horizon, she knew there would likely be a storm before the days end. 

Pulling the furs around her shoulders a little tighter, she set off for the forge. Enjoying the last few moments of early morning silence before the rest of Kattegat awoke to start their day.

She had been at the forge for several hours, working tirelessly, before her father finally stumbled in. No-doubt still drunk from the night before as she took in his disheveled appearance, noting he still wore the previous days clothes and reeked of ale and sex. Yara frowned as he fumbled around, making a mess of things before finally settling on crafting a new blade for a dagger. 

She continued to work quietly, hoping that if she pretended to be invisible, he wouldn’t notice, nor remember that she did not arrive home until well after he had; and she succeeded for a time, before what was left of his drunken haze had faded and his usual rage filled demeanor had returned, almost in the blink of an eye.

“Where did you run off to, last night?” It was a demand, more than it was a question. His voice eerily calm, sending a chill down her spine as she made pause in hammering on the piece of steel she’d been working with. “Well?!”

“I decided to show myself around.” She shrugged, completely unaware of how close he had gotten. “I figured it would not be a prob-” The sharp sting of his hand connecting with her face caught her off guard. The blow knocking her back and sending her crashing to the ground as the familiar taste of metal filled her mouth. Wincing, she touched the corner of her lip lightly drawing her hand away to reveal crimson tinged finger tips.

“Have I not warned you enough about lying to me!” He seethed, face dangerously close to her own as his fingers locked themselves around her throat, lifting her to eye level as she struggled for a breath of air; boots barely touching the ground. 

“I will not have you playing the whore like your mother did!” He spat. “I saw you leave with that Lothbrok boy.” His voice had become a low growl. “You think you are worthy of their affections?”

“We…d-didn’t…do…any…thing!” She gasped, struggling to speak as his grip tightened around her throat.

“You better hope for your sake that is true, Whelp!” He snarled, hand releasing her from his grasp as she dropped to the ground, gasping for air. Her own fingers gently prodding the area she could already feel beginning to bruise. 

“Get out of my sight.” She did not wait around to be told twice as she exited the forge, the door slamming closed behind her as she tried to avoid the stares and whispers as she quickly made a break for the treeline where she knew no one would bother her; at least for awhile. Especially her father, who’s mind she knew could change at any given moment. It was best to simply become invisible for a while until she knew he was to far gone again to care and punish her any further. 

If her luck was fortunate enough.

 

She broke through the treeline into the clearing in which she had been the previous night. Making her way for the cliffs edge where she stood over looking the water, drawing in a deep, shaky, breath of fresh air. Wincing as the action made her throat feel as though it was alight with fire. 

Tears of anger brimming her eyes as she brushed away at them them away furiously. Was this really to be her fate? Day in and day out for the rest of her miserable life? Or at least until her father died…‘cause Gods know she would never Marry if he continued to have his way.

A quiet sob escaped her lips as she glanced down, staring past her boots over the cliffs edge into the waters below. The many times she had thought about disappearing forever…how simple it would be to just close her eyes and hand herself over to Gods. One simple step. No more pain, no more suffering, but something within her heart always stopped her. Even now, as she peered over the edge, heart beating furiously against her rib cage, as if it were a caged bird that begged to be set free…longing for it’s release. 

A rock caught the toe of her boot and rolled over the ledge, watching as it tumbled into the dark waves below. Swallowed up by the water, never to be seen again.

'So easy…’ Her mind whispered.

Yara took a step back and sat down in the grass, pulling her knees against her chest and resting her forehead against them a steady raindrops began to fall from the dark clouds that had gathered overhead. Hiding the silent tears that slipped from her green eyes and tracked down her cheeks as she looked up, watching as a bolt of lightning stuck across the sky off in the distance, followed by a rumble of thunder that sounded as if Thor himself could appear before her at given moment; the rain picking up pace. Falling now in almost blinding sheets as she closed her eyes, tilting her face toward the sky as she relished in the feel of it against her skin. Wishing it was possible for the passing storm to wash her sorrows away.

“Gods…” She whispered, shaking her head as she looked out over the dark water, the rain almost blinding by this point as it ran into her eyes. "Help me? Even if I do not deserve it…’fore I do not know how much longer I can bare this.“

 

 

The day had faded well into evening before Yara managed to find her way back into the village. Completely soaked with rain and freezing as the breeze had picked up, seeming to blow right through her as she wandered the streets. Noting from a distance that her father was no longer at the forge, she ducked inside in an attempt to dry off and pick up the mess he had left behind. 

She ignored the sounds of work from the far end, assuming it was simply one of the other blacksmiths or villagers that was finishing up their work for the day. Paying no mind to the presence until the sounds of working had stopped and she became all to aware that she was being approached from behind. Her hand gripping the handle of the dagger that lay in front of her on a the work bench she had been busy clearing off. 

Rounding in one swift motion, dagger in hand as the movement behind her stopped, she was taken by surprise as he feet were taken out from underneath her. her back colliding harshly with the floor as all the air rushed from her lungs. A familiar strong hand plucking the dagger from her grasp as mischievous blue eyes came into her view. 

A small growl passed Yara’s lips as she glared up at Ivar.

"It is nice to see you too.” He replied with a smug grin as he examined the dagger he had taken from her hand. Yara said nothing in return as she sat up, rubbing at the back of her head where it hit the floor. “Did you make this?” She glanced down as he held the dagger back out for her to take. Those intense blue eyes trained on her face, falling briefly to her lips for a moment he frowned, noting the split the graced the lower left corner of her bottom lip.

“Yes.” She stated as he brought his gaze back to hold her own, briefly, as she snatched the dagger out of his hand and got to her feet. Placing the dagger back on the bench before she finished cleaning up. Silence falling over them as he simply watched her move about the forge.

“The craftsmanship is impeccable.” He added, pulling himself up onto a crate as he watched her stare out the door. Observing how tense her body language was, like that of a deer that was prepared to bolt at the first sign of movement. She turned to look over her shoulder with one eyebrow cocked, almost as if she was gauging whether or not her was being serious, finally nodding in acknowledgement as she closed the door. Walking over to pick up the half finished dagger that sat on the Anvil where Ivar had been working. Examining it closely –noting the struggle that had taken place in hammering it out– before bringing it to him and holding it out.

“Heat the metal more before taking the hammer to it…it makes the steel more pliable.” Her tone was soft, indicating she meant to be helpful.

“Perhaps you can give me a demonstration.” He smirked; tongue darting out across his lower lip, followed by teeth. Chuckling as she glanced away awkwardly.

“Some other time perhaps.” She replied. “I…should be going…” Her words trailed off quietly as her attention returned to the entrance of the forge, contemplating just exactly where she could go that wasn’t home. But Ivar nodded, taking the hint as he crawled for the door, pausing just outside as he turned to look at her.

“If you do not wish to return home…you are more than welcome to follow.” Frowning as he saw that her gaze had fallen on something in the distance. Ivar turning slightly to catch sight of the Blacksmith. Anger forming a sudden knot in the pit of his stomach as she shook her head in response before quickly closing the door behind her.

“I must return home…but, thank you, for the offer.” She forced a half hearted smile in return, composing herself as she walked in the direction of her home. A growl leaving Ivar’s throat at the thought of her having to suffer that wretched mans company. It wasn’t his place to care, but he did and he hated it. He hated him…he hated her. Or at least he tried his damnedest to tell himself that he did.

 

 

More than two weeks had passed since Ivar had last seen Yara at the Forge. Ragnar having inquired about her absence after his youngest sons mention of her absence one evening. Her father claiming that she had fallen ill and was recovering at home. Forbidding her to have visitors, but having made no attempt at contacting the villages healer. 

It had been setting wrong with him for several days now. His own father simply shrugging it off, repeatedly telling Ivar that it was not their place which only further infuriated his already perpetually angry son. Generally resulting a long heated argument that would end with Ivar crawling off in a heated rage. But today, he found himself watching the forge from afar. Absentmindedly twirling a throwing knife around his finger as he watched the man. Waiting until he was engrossed in his work before taking his leave in the direction of the mans home. 

Arriving some time later he knocked on the door, waiting for several minutes but never receiving an answer. Ivar growled in frustration, knocking several more times before finally opening the door and pulling himself inside. A well aimed boot colliding with the back of his head, earning it’s thrower a startled yelp as he turned with a glare.

“Are you not aware that it is rude to enter someone’s home without being invited.” The girl stated, furs clutched to her naked chest as she reached for an overshirt. Ivar quick to turn back towards the door, feeling his ears grow hot out of embarrassment. "You can look now.“ She huffed out in a frustrated tone, Ivar turning slowly as he watched her sink onto the bench by the door in front of him. Exhaustion evident on her fac, wincing in noticeable discomfort as she leaned back. He frowned.

"Pleased to see you are still alive.” The comment earned an agitated snort as Yara rolled her eyes. Ignoring the intense burning gaze that made note of every fading bruise and visible welt. Several angry looking cuts exposing themselves on her left shoulder as her shirt slid down ever so slightly. Curious fingers reaching out to pull the shirt back, only to be slapped away as she gave him a warning look. Brows knitting together in frustration, he withdrew his hand for the time being. 

“That should be seen to by a healer.”

“It is fine.” She assured, pulling the shirt back over her shoulder gently before tightening the laces on the front of it to keep it better in place. It was Ivar’s turn to roll his eyes at the hardheaded young woman who sat before him. Pale faced and tired, small beads of sweat gathering along her hairline despite it being a cool Spring day.

“You certainly do not look fine.” He retorted. “You need to see a healer.”

“I do not remember wanting, nor asking for your opinion.” Yara snapped back. “I.am.fine.”

“I will drag you along myself if I must.” He shrugged matter of factly, watching as she narrowed her gaze at him. Pushing herself to her feet and moving to sit at the opposite side of the room on her bed.

“I would like to see you try.” She replied with a small laugh, wincing at the pain the action clearly caused her. Her eyes widening suddenly at the quickness in which he closed the distance between them in. Vice like grip grasping her ankle and pulling her off the bed she had been seated on. Yelping as her rear connected with the hard floor roughly. His face mere inches from her own, blue eyes boring into her own.

“Do not underestimate me, woman.” Ivar warned her in a dangerously low tone before releasing her from his grasp. “If you will not come willingly, I have ways of getting you there myself.”

“Do you not think I would have already seen a healer if I was allowed to leave here?” She replied, not moving from the spot she had previously landed in. Ivar still in close proximity.

“Believe me. Your father is more than occupied, and will remain so for quite some time. He will not even noticed you are gone.” Ivar stated. “You have my word. I will not get you into further trouble with the man.” He had a difficult time making that promise, sooner wishing he could take an axe to the blacksmiths face and be done with the situation. But he kept that thought to himself.

"Well?“

"Fine…” She replied quietly. But he could hear the uncertainty that wavered in her voice as she eyed the door nervously, but stood nevertheless. Grabbing a cloak from beside her bed and putting it on. Ivar smiled triumphantly. 

“Do not dwell on your victory too much, my dear Prince.” He scowled at her use of the word. “I am only doing this so that you will leave me alone to die in peace.” Opening the backdoor with a smirk, Ivar rolled his eyes and followed her outside.

The house sat close to the woods which made it all the more easy to sneak away unnoticed, but the trek was long nevertheless, more so with frequent stops so that they could both catch their breath before continuing on. But they happened upon a small shack sometime later. Greeted by a young blonde woman who beamed brightly at the sight of the youngest Ragnarsson. That smile faltering with one glance at the girl beside him who was headed straight for the ground, another man appearing seemingly out of nowhere and catching her before she could hit.

“Gods!” The man gasped, sweeping her up in a swift motion as he headed for the small shack. “She is blazing hotter than the fires of Hel it’s self!”

“Get her inside.” The woman instructed in a hurried tone. Her strict orders and the voices that followed, slowly becoming one melded together blur as Yara slowly slipped into unconsciousness.


	4. Nightmares and Ravens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED ON-8/31/2018
> 
> SHOUTOUTS: [crazyevildru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyevildru/pseuds/crazyevildru) \-- You rock! 
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Talk of blood and death. Nothing to horrible
> 
> MUSICAL INSPIRATION WHILE WRITTING: [Badass Song](https://youtu.be/JnTplu65-0Q)

The sound of screams, the clash of metal and shield; the scent of blood and death taking hold of her senses. It all made the familiar feeling of bile burn up the back of her throat as she opened her eyes. In the middle of it all. Watching as men and women alike struggled for the upper hand in the battle. But every movement was slowed as time seemed to almost stand still. Allowing her to take in the gory sights that surrounded her. 

So much blood...so much death...women and children fled from the streets seeking refuge from the wrath of the Heathen army that invaded their home. Being struck down with brutal blows as she passed by through it all. Their pleas for help, though being in a strange language she could not understand, still made her stomach churn violently as she navigated the blood soaked street. The sounds of a Raven overhead grabbing her attention as she followed it's path. It's cries peaking her curiosity; stepping over the corpses of the fallen as she trailed along. 

The hem of the white dress she wore, and her bare feet were soaked crimson with blood. All sounds but that of the Raven seeming to fall away with each soundless step she took. Following blindly. Past the stone walls into vibrant green fields...but they to, slowly turned to hues of crimson, as the blood seemed to follow the Raven that soared over head. 

But still, she followed. 

It's cries growing louder, almost deafening too her ears as she chased through green fields and into dark forest. The cries growing more and more urgent as she broke into a sprint to keep up. Calling after the Raven. But her voice was silenced by it's shrieks. Shielding her face from the razor like branches the seemed to reach out for her as she ran, faster and faster. The cries of the Raven changing; from bird, to screams of pain and death. 

The forest opening to a sheer ledge cliff that dropped straight into the dark rolling depths of the sea. She stopped. Silence filling her ears as she stared over the edge. Startled as she looked up, taking a step back as ocean was replaced by a massive tree. The raven landing on a low hanging branch. Almost beckoning her to come closer; screams turning to soft reassuring whispers. Soothing her fears as she extended her hand...the bird seeming just out of her reach the closer she got. Climbing over rocks she traveled up, the Raven continuing to beckon her closer with each soft reassuring word.

"That's it...higher...higher..."

Beckoning.

Just within her grasp.

Higher.

HIGHER.

Suddenly she was face to face with the creature, following it's one eyed gaze that looked down at the world below them.

Watching.

Waiting.

"Death, will come. War will rage. Blood will coat the land and fill the seas. Death. My sweet child how you have longed, and prayed, for all these years to feel it's sweet release." Her eyes closed as the sensation of fingertips ghosted over her cheek and trailed along her collarbone where it rested. "But it is not yet your time. Your time will not come until you have been blessed with a full life. Full of long journeys to far away lands. Battles that are to be won...a life that is to be filled with an intense, burning love you have yet to feel, and many children...your time is not up for many years, my child."

Her emerald eyes opened to reveal a man had replaced the Raven before her. His shoulder length hair graying, and one eye burned from his skull. She gasped as she felt herself starting to fall away from him. One strong hand pushing her gently over the ledge behind her.

"Go forth my child. Live!"

A sense of calm filled her as her body hurtled towards the ground...falling for what felt like an eternity. Watching as the tree grew smaller and smaller. Heart thudding in her ears as the ground approached. A scream that was not her own thundering from above, splitting the silence that surrounded her. The sound of everything at once rushing back to her at lightening speed. The world fading to the deepest hues of black as she hit the ground...smiling as she faded into nothingness.

 

 

She thrashed violently under the furs before bolting upright, a strangled cry leaving her lips as she gasped for air, looked around wildly in confusion. A shrill laugh cackled excitedly from somewhere in the room, her eyes straining to focus in the dark as a comforting yet firm hand appeared out of nowhere to push her back down as well as providing water. The owner of said hand chiding the owner of the cackling voice. The blonde woman's face coming into focus as she pressed a hand to Yara's forehead.

"The fever has finally broken." She sighed with a relieved smile. "You are very fortunate."

"Fortunate is right!" The other voice spoke. A tall, spindly man stepping into view. A wild cat like grin graced his lanky features as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "You saw him." He whispered excitedly. "You saw the All Father." Her head rushed with memory of the fever induced dream. The stone walls...all the death she saw...all the blood...the tree."

"There was a Raven..." She whispered. "Yggdrasil...the tree of life...he spoke to me...told me it wasn’t my time...and then I fell." The man could hardly contain himself as excitement seemed to surge through him. Hazel eyes bright with curiosity and wonder, almost like that of a child's.

"You will have to forgive my husband." The woman apologized with a kind smile. "He is easily excited. I am Helga, and that is Floki." She gestured to the man, her husband, on the foot of the bed.

"I am-"

"Yara. The Blacksmiths Daughter. Ivar filled us in." Floki smiled sheepishly, offering her a bowl of stew. Yara willingly accepting is as she propped herself up against the wall. Nearly inhaling every bit of it before realization hit her.

"How long have I been here?!" She gasped.

"About four days." The voice came from Ivar who was perched in the opposite corner of the room. If she hadn't felt like her legs would betray her and buckle the second she stood, she was sure that the youngest Lothbrok would have met an early demise right then and there.

"ARE YOU MAD?!" She shrieked, Ivar ducking as she chucked the empty bowl at his face. "You promised." She growled.

"I did." He replied smugly, pointing a throwing knife in her direction as he leaned forward. "And I have kept that promise. You are safe from trouble...and not dead. I see that as a victory." He shrugged; gaze returning to whatever he had been whittling on beforehand.

"Oh." She scoffed. "You just wait until I can get out of this bed, cripple boy!"

"Sharp tongue this one!" Floki cackled with amusement as he pointed at Ivar. "You may have met your match."

"Unlikely." Ivar replied in a bored tone. Yara simply rolled her eyes, arms crossed tightly over chest as she looked to the open window. The sun making it's slow ascent into the sky and shedding light on the world outside. Pouting much as a child would, but silently thankful that she was safe for the time being. 

But she knew that somewhere, her father would be out for blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? Woohoo! :-D I had fun writing this one, but it was also a bit challenging as I've never written a dream scene before! Hope ya'll enjoyed it! Drop a comment and let me know what you think ^_^


	5. Absence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED ON - 9/11/2018  
> Hello everyone! Sorry I was MIA with updates all weekend...I had intentions of posting, but got buried in housework! I also tried to get posted as soon as I could and unfortunately it's shorter than I wanted, but I've had a very uncooperative toddler on my hands all day. Anywho though, I hope you guys are enjoying it so far?! Feedback is always welcome. Things will start to pick up soon! 
> 
> SHOUTOUTS: [crazyevildru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyevildru/pseuds/crazyevildru)
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Feeeeeeeels

"But why can I not go outside?!" Yara all but whined like a needy a child as she sat up straight in the chair, pulling her shirt over her head and clutching it cover her breasts as Helga applied a salve to the scabbed over wounds on her back. 

"I have been locked up for weeks...I am starting to go mad!" She added, eyes transfixed on the open window. Watching as the leaves on the trees swayed back and forth gently; reminding her of the Raven from her dream that beckoned her to come closer. 

It had been more than a week since Ivar brought her here, and she hadn't been allowed to venture more than a few steps from the bed. Being caged up like an animal, it was driving her to the verge of insanity. To make matters worse, Ivar had been absent for the past two days, leaving her to the musings of the madman, slash, boat builder, Floki. Who could not stop asking her questions about her dream.

"Your wounds are healing nicely, but there is still chance they could break open and become inflamed with fever again." Helga replied with a sigh. Obviously having grown tired of hearing the young woman ask the same question over and over. "But," She added, watching as Yara turned her head with hopeful green eyes. 

"If you promise to be careful, I will let you go. Floki could use some help today anyways, and I must go to the village to restock some supplies." Her hands were careful as she smoothed the cloth over Yara's skin to keep the wounds covered underneath her shirt.

"I promise!" Yara got out in rush as she yanked the shirt back over her head with one graceful motion. Making sure to grab the cloak for good measure before hurrying out the door, afraid Helga might change her mind. But that wasn't the case as she walked through the woods, just a ways beyond the small home of Floki the boat builder and his wife. Stumbling upon where the boat builder did most of his work. 

Welcoming the light breeze that kissed her skin as she took a seat beneath a massive tree, welcoming the task of handing Floki tools whenever he asked. The man explaining in great detail what he was doing and why as she watched with curiosity as he worked with such ease. Answering the occasional questions he would ask about blacksmithing, questioning her own skills before finally seeming satisfied with his findings.

"There is something that I wish to build." The man never turned his attention from his work as he spoke to her. "It is for Ivar." A faint tinge of heat rose to the tips of her ears at the mention of his name, but she kept her attention on what the boat builder had to say. 

"In a few months time, they will be making the journey to Wessex to raid. Ivar has inquired of a way to help him fight alongside his father and brothers...I have an idea, but I could use someone of your skill to help me. If you should find yourself interested?"

"Why not ask my father?" Yara replied, skeptical of why he would ask her when her fathers work was far greater. Floki chuckled at the look of confusing that must have been evident in her features. He paused in his work and came to kneel in front of her, pulling a dagger from his belt, he held it out for her to inspect.

"This is your work, is it not?" He asked.

Yara recognized it immediately as one of the daggers she had made before their arrival. They were gifts for Ragnar, his sons, and whomever else he chose. A small smile crept onto her lips as she admired the detail before handing it back with a nodd. 

"Yes." She answered truthfully. Even though her father had originally taken credit for the craftsmanship. "But again, I must ask, why me?"

"It is simple." Floki replied with a smile. "You take pride in your work, but you are honest about it. Your father, while a wretched man, has skill. But his work is rushed. There is no passion in it...but this," He held up the dagger once more. 

"This is passion. You love what you do, just as I love what I do." He motioned to the boat that sat behind him. "Passion makes all the difference." Yara blushed noticeably -- never before had anyone truly admired her work -- earning her another laugh from the boat builder as he stood, ruffling her hair affectionately while she glared back playfully. 

"You are far to humble for your own good; little green eyed Wolf."

"If you can get me what I need, without my father becoming suspicious, I would be glad to help with whatever you need." Yara spoke, rolling her eyes at the new name he'd so affectionately taken to calling her.

"Already done." Her eyes widened in surprise as he uncovered the small makeshift Forge he had built for her to use.

"How were you so sure that I would agree to help you?" She asked, narrowing her eyes skeptically as she watched the cat like grin return to the mans face.

"It is for Ivar." He stated. "I knew you would not refuse."

 

\----------------------------------------------

 

Yara's annoyance at Ivar's absence grew with each passing day. Having taken to spending her time helping Floki work on the boats, as well at the other project she had promised to help him with. Taking in every bit of knowledge he had to offer her as they worked. She enjoyed the change of pace. It was drastically different from what she was used to, but it was nice nevertheless. 

She had always been eager to learn new things, but her father had never allowed it. Stating that Smithing was all she ever need to know in her life. Chastising her harshly when she would display new techniques picked up by watching other Blacksmiths who passed through down at the forge. But working with Floki was actually, enjoyable; and when he had nothing for her to work on, she took to helping Helga around their home. 

Learning the basics and enjoying simple things like how to tend a garden, or forage for herbs and learning the different healing properties they possessed; to how to keep a home. All the things that she had been starved of as a young girl, as she had no mother to teach her. But Helga was more than willing. Yara having learned that they had lost their own daughter, and it made Floki happy to see his wife so happy again.

The day had grown late, and Yara had been busying herself with hanging herbs with Helga outside the small house to dry, when the familiar sound of someone approaching caught her attention. Both women pausing to turn, watching as Floki came up the walk, Ivar clinging to his back; both laughing loudly about something as they walked inside. 

Anger knotting itself into a fist in the depths of Yara's stomach at the sight of the youngest Lothbrok boy. Remembering what she had thought was concern when he'd brought her to Floki and Helga; but then disappearing without so much as word the second she was better. It was something that shouldn't have really bothered her, but it did. The very sight of him making her want to slap some form of sense into that stupid head of his...

As she entered the house behind Helga, Yara growled lowly in annoyance as she observed how he acted as though nothing had changed. Like his absence hadn't somehow affected her, and meant nothing. She didn't know what sort of game he was getting at, but it was wearing on her final nerve. Not that she didn't enjoy the company of Helga and Floki, but she had been cooped up for to long. Maybe she had assumed to quickly that there had been some kind of friendship forming.

"It is nice to see you are finally feeling better." Ivar's voice broke her away from her thoughts just long enough for her to shoot him an icy glare. The look only seeming to amuse him further. Yara choosing to excuse herself as she disappeared back outside to put her tools away for the day, taking a seat down by the water when she was finished. Throwing rocks across the surface in an attempt to sooth her temper. Only finding herself to be growing more agitated, every thought somehow turning to Ivar and how his very presence seemed to hold so much power over her and her feelings. It was beyond frustrating.

Despite the darkness, she could still make out his features as he took a seat beside her, adjusting his legs before leaning back comfortably as he watched her intently. Noting that she knew he was there, but chose to ignore him in such a manner that made him stifle a laugh. 

"What!?" She finally snapped, turning her fiery green gaze to meet his as he simply shook his head with an amused grin.

"You have quiet a temper for a woman, you know that?" He stated, turning his gaze away to the water. "Preparations for Wessex are well underway..." He continued to speak when he didn't get any kind of response out of her. 

"Planning has not only taken up much of my own time, but your fathers as well. He has not been pleased with your disappearance...my father is doing what he can to keep him distracted, but it is not going to last much longer."

"If you had left me alone in the first place, this wouldn't be a problem." Yara snapped.

"If I had left you alone, you would be dead." Ivar stated with a frown, noting how the thought didn't seem to phase her in the slightest. Making his stomach turn in an unpleasant manner. 

"I promised I would not let any more harm come to you, did I not?" Yara shook her head stiffly in agreement. "And have I not kept good on that promise? It has been no simple task keeping him off your trail." He sighed in annoyance, his expression softening as he watched Yara pull her knees to her chest. Shifting his weight slightly, he moved to place his hand on her arm to gain her attention, noting how she tensed and shied away his touch seemingly out of habit. 

"My father has asked that you accompany us to Wessex...until we can settle upon a more, permanent solution."

"The only permanent solution is either his death, or my marriage..." She snapped. "And I do not see many people lining up to marry the Blacksmiths bastard daughter." Ivar's frown deepened as he stared at her through the dark, watching her expression fall as what little hope she had left seemed to slip away. 

"He will notice if I leave...he is not a fool."

Silence fell between them as Yara stared out over the water; Ivar's hand still resting on her arm, his gaze never leaving her face. Wondering how something that seemed so strong, could be so broken? 

Someday that Blacksmith would pay for the pain he had caused her; Ivar would make sure of it. Her father treated her no better than a common slave when she deserved so much more out of life. Even more than he himself could ever give her...but Gods damn him if he wouldn't try!


	6. Lonely Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED ON: 10\10\18  
> I am terribly sorry the last chapter wasn't the best! D: I seriously hope this chapter makes up for it! 
> 
> SHOUTOUTS: [crazyevildru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyevildru/pseuds/crazyevildru) \-- Your comments make my day! <3
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Prepare your feels for some fluff.

Yara woke late the next morning to find herself alone. Breakfast and a small note sat next to the bed where she would be sure to find them. ’Back soon.' Was all it read. Heaving a sigh, she sat up and stretched gently before climbing out of bed and getting dressed for the day. Shoveling down her cold breakfast before venturing outside. 

The day was warm and she enjoyed the feel of the sunshine on her skin as she took to busying herself for awhile at the small forge Floki had constructed for her. Working on her half of their project, before eventually growing hot and restless from working in the sun, deciding to walk down to the water where she sat in the shade; feet dipped in the cool water. Relishing in the feel as it lapped against her feet gently. She would have given anything in that moment to be able to jump in and go for a swim, but Helga had forbid it due to her wounds that were still healing. So there she sat...hot, bored, and alone for Gods knows how long.

It was approaching early afternoon judging by the suns position above the trees, and Yara was beginning to have her doubts that they would be returning anytime soon. Pulling her feet from the water, she allowed them to dry for awhile before slipping her boots back on and making her way back up to the house. Working on completing the days chores to keep herself busy. Growing frustrated when even that failed to pass enough time.

Finally growing bored enough, and lacking things to keep her attention, Yara ventured off into the woods to set Snares and collect more Herbs, to help restock Helga's supplies. Taking her time for the remainder of the afternoon, as she wound her way lazily through the trees. Watching in amusement as birds and other small creatures -- wrapped up in the throws of Spring time courting -- fought for the prettiest females attention.

The sun had finally started to set when she made it back to the small house...finding it still empty, distant sounds of a celebration drifting through the evening air; she sighed. It was the first time in weeks that she had been truly alone. Forgetting what it had felt like to not have another person around...it made an all to familiar, hollow, feeling form in the pit of her stomach as she frowned deeply. 

Trying to focus, she worked on skinning out the rabbits her snares had managed to catch on her way back. Putting them in a stew with an assortment of veggies from the garden. Laying down on the bed, waiting; for someone...anyone, to return to keep her company. Watching, almost entranced, by the flames of the fire that flickered in their wildly heated dance. Allowing them to lull her into darkness as she dozed off.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that she woke; the feeling of another presence in the room nearly startled her to death. That familiar Sapphire gaze which watched her carefully having taken her by surprise. Ivar sat propped against the bed comfortably, chuckling with a mischievous smirk at the reaction his presence had brought fourth from the sleeping form he had been watching so intently. 

“Nice of you to finally wake up.” He stated, stoking the fire before leaning back with a grin. "I was beginning to grow bored." He smirked.

“Are you trying to scare me to death?” She grumbled, wincing as she sat up. Noting that the forgotten bandage on her back was pulling uncontrollably and had not been changed since the previous morning. Ivar frowned at her pained expression.

“Are you alright?” He asked, all amusement falling away as he pulled himself up to sit on the bed beside her, brows pulled together with worry as he watched her carefully.

“I slept late...” Yara replied, her voice still thick with sleep. “Everyone had already left by the time I woke...Helga never removed the bandage from my back.” She stated awkwardly, standing as she rummaged around through the supplies on the table for the salve and clean bandages. Placing them on the bed out of habit before retrieving a fresh bowl of water and some cloth. Staring at them for a moment, trying to figure out how exactly she was going to tend to her own back. Ivar rolled his eyes.

“Sit.” He ordered unexpectedly, pointing to the floor in front of him. Yara looked at him with a dumbfounded expression as she tried to protest. Mouth opening and closing several times as she attempted to form some kind of word. 

"Sit." He ordered again. Shifting so that she could sit beside his legs on the floor. The tone to his voice silenced her protests, and while not enthused, she obeyed any way. Sliding on to the floor quietly, crossing her legs underneath herself as she tugged the shirt over her head and clutched it to her chest. Taking deep shaky breathes in hopes in would keep her heart from leaping out of her rib cage. The blush she had been trying to fight off creeping up her neck rapidly at the touch of his hand on her shoulder.

Brushing her dark hair to the side gently, Ivar carefully pulled the old bandage back, a surge of anger racing through his veins as it revealed the healing lashes that lie across her back. Several of them being noticeably deep, even scabbed over. He bit his tongue; careful to remain quiet and keep his touch gentle, as he cleaned each area carefully. His fingers brushing against her skin lightly, tracing over other healed scars that marred her back, noting how her skin flushed with heat at the action. But what caught his attention, was not the scars, but the large and intricate tattoo the rested on her left shoulder. Fingers tracing the workings of a tree --Yggdrasil to be exact-- gently, making her shiver under his touch as he withdraw his hand. Clearing his throat he grabbed the salve.

“Did it hurt?” He questioned, fingers applying a layer of salve to the wounds on her opposite shoulder. “The tattoo...I mean.” Yara simply shrugged, the action causing the muscles in her back to flex slightly.

"Not really." She replied softly. "I have felt worse pain than that of being tattooed." She stated. "I find the pain more...comforting?" Shifting so that her left hand was holding the shirt in place over her breasts, she moved to roll her right arm over to reveal the runes and symbols that trailed down her forearm.

"They suit you." Ivar replied, smoothing the bandage over her back gently as it bonded with the salve. Yara pulling the fabric of her shirt back over her head, tightening the laces in the front as she stood to clean up the supplies. Ivar's fingertips grazing her own as he handed her the salve. The corner of her mouth quirking into a small smile.

"Thank you."

 

Things remained quiet between them for some time as she cleaned up and put away the supplies. The sounds of distant celebration catching her attention once more as she dished up a couple bowls of stew, offering one of them as well as a cup of ale, to Ivar before sitting down on the floor in front of him. 

"Sounds like quite the celebration." She commented before taking a bite of food. Savoring the flavors of rabbit and fresh herbs, finally realizing how hungry she actually was. Ivar nodded in reply as he swallowed his own bite of food.

"It is Bjorn's send off...they leave in the morning for the Mediterranean." He stated before taking a sip of ale, setting the cup back down next to him. "He was sorry that you could not be there, but hopes you are feeling better." Yara smiled softly, raising her cup in reply before taking a small sip. 

"Floki and Helga also send their apologies."

"I take it their apology was sending you to annoy me?" She replied dryly, but her eyes held a glimmer of humor.

"Someone had to make sure you weren't about to set the house ablaze." He replied with a smirk. "Not a bad job on the food, either...Helga might make you a decent wife for someone after all." He chuckled, ducking as he dodged the spoon she threw at him; green eyes glaring intently as she poured herself more ale. 

"Have to work on that temper of yours through." He smirked.

"If anyone should be working on their temper, I hear it is you." She glared playfully up at Ivar, one eyebrow cocked as she challenged a response. Ivar bit his tongue with a grin, but remained quiet as he finished his food, indicating that she had won...for the moment at least. 

Placing his empty bowl into her out stretched hand as she stood and tidied up before sitting back down on the floor next to his feet; refilling both their ale cups before leaning back against the bed. Watching as the flames of the fire cast shadows across the mostly dark room. Small talk filling the gaps of silence as the night wore on.

\---------------------------------------

Hours had passed, but they seemed like mere minutes; the sun beginning to peak over the mountains, welcoming a new day and shedding light through the window into the small house. All the ale was gone, and Yara laughed freely at some ridiculous story Ivar had been telling her. Her sides ached and tears filled her eyes as she struggled to catch her breath. 

Ivar smiling fondly for a few brief moments at the sound. She was always so void of emotion that it was nice to see the change. To watch her be so full of life for even the briefest of moments...it made emotions that Ivar had never felt before stir within him; making him both angry, and afraid...happy, and confused. All he knew for certain, was that he enjoyed seeing her happy. Making her happy.

As her laughing finally died down. heaving a sigh that was quickly followed by a yawn as she stretched, head rolling over the edge of the bed, landing on his shoulder. 

"You, are drunk." Ivar chuckled lightly as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her own eyes closed and her face relaxed.

"And it is your fault." She grumbled tiredly in reply. A small hum leaving her throat as his hand absentmindedly reached to stroke her hair gently as he watched the sunrise through the window. The distant sounds of the celebrations having long died off. The morning filled with the soft sounds of nature, waking to start it's day with the rising sun. 

Ivar's back ached from sitting for so long in one spot. Shifting carefully, he pulled himself up onto the bed, stretching with a groan before moving to rearrange the now unconscious girl beside him under the furs. Laying down on the opposite side of the bed, watching her peaceful features as she drifted further and further into the reaches of sleep. Ivar moving to tuck a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. Finger trailing gently from cheekbone to jawline, thumb settling on the small cleft of her chin; taking the opportunity to memorize every perfect feature of her face.

"Rest well...my sweet Ylva." He spoke gently. "I will return soon." Pulling away as he lowered himself onto the floor, he dragged his way towards the door as he headed back to the village to see Bjorn off on his latest journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRANSLATIONS: Ylva ((from my findings)) is Old Norse for She-Wolf. Pronouncing to the effect of "ULL-VA" the U being a more UH sounding. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter?  
> Shits about to go down real quick like here pretty soon!  
> Let me know what ya think?!


	7. No good deed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED ON: 10/22/18
> 
> SHOUTOUTS: [crazyevildru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyevildru/pseuds/crazyevildru)

"He is angry, Ivar!" Aslaug snapped, ale cup echoing through the hall as she slammed it back down on the table; pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration before narrowing her eyes at her youngest Son. 

"You can not continue to hide her forever, she is HIS daughter! What he does with her is none of your concern. If Yara is not returned immediately, he will stop the forge of weapons that are needed for the upcoming raids...and then that? Have you thought about that at all?! ... Are you even listening to me? IVAR?!" 

The intense sapphire gaze that had been trained on the bottom of his ale cup snapped up as he glared at his mother. A wave of unspeakable anger surging through every fiber of his being as he leaned forward, eerily calm. Aslaug sat back against her chair, her frustrations evident on her face.

"You speak as though she is no better than that Slave that Ubbe and Hvitserk have been fucking...Mother." His voice was steady, calm even. But the anger that stormed in his eyes and the venom that dripped from his words was enough to make his own mother briefly uneasy.

"She is the Blacksmith's daughter." Aslaug ground out from between clenched teeth.

"So? What difference should that make!?" Ivar snapped back, seething as the fight escalated. "Does that not still make her a person? Some one who should be free to make her own choices?" He argued. 

"Yet she is treated no better than a dog! Simply because her father is a monster, and her mother chose to be with someone who actually loved her? That gives him the right to almost beat her nearly to death for the sake of his own enjoyment?! No, you are completely right mother."

"SHE IS A BASTARD."

Silence fell upon the room briefly as Ivar stared at his mother. His father and Brother's watching with intent silence as the argument progressed throughout dinner. Wondering how many times this argument was going to occur.

"And I am a Cripple...yet you do not love me any less?" Ivar finally broke the silence. "So I ask again. Why, does she deserve to be treated any different? Is it not our job to protect our people...Mother?" He leaned forward against the table, chin resting atop his laced fingers as a devilish grin spread slowly across his features. Aslaug turning to Ragnar for assistance with their overly stubborn son. Ragnar simply shrugged.

"We can not rescue every bleeding heart just because we feel like it, Ivar. Until the girl is Married, she will never be free of her father." Aslaug stated for what felt like the hundredth time. "It is as simple as that."

"So we find her a suitable husband." Ivar replied simply.

"Her father will never allow it. Even if you were to find someone...if that were the case, my dear son, that girl would have been married a long time ago. But she is a bastard. She is of no worth, no promise, aside from being a decent Blacksmith. Any man her father feels worthy enough, would never consider marrying someone like her. There is nothing for them in return. No land. No coin. No promise of someday being Jarl or King...the girl has no bloodlines. The only man worthy enough to have a woman such as herself, is not good enough in her fathers eyes; because he gets nothing out of the deal. I like her, Ivar, I really do. She seems like a nice girl, but there is nothing we can do!" Aslaug sighed as her head throbbed with frustration, her point going seemingly unnoticed as her son continued to argue.

"So we persuade him then!" Ivar stated. "Whatever the means--"

"Ivar..."

"There surely has to be something the man wants--"

"Ivar...”

"It can not be--"

"ENOUGH!" Ivar stared in stunned silence for a brief moment before composing himself, blue eyes shifting up to meet his mother’s as she now towered over him, face mere inches from his own. 

"It is simply not possible, that is that. This argument is over with." She snapped, turning on her heel as she made to leave the room, stopping dead in her tracks by the next words her son spoke.

"What if I Marry her?"

"No woman would ever marry you!" Sigurd laughed. "Not even one as out of her mind as her." Ivar made a move to reach across the table for his brother, not getting far before they were both silenced by Ragnar’s voice.

"That is enough. Sigurd, leave your bother alone. Ivar, apologize to your mother for upsetting her." Ivar rolled his eyes but complied nevertheless before she left the room. 

"We will discuss this later. Understood?" Ragnar added firmly, but it was the familiar look from behind those blue eyes of his that told his youngest son, that this conversation was far from over.

\-----------------------------------------

 

"Do you think he will like it?" Floki asked as they stood admiring their work. Yara patted the white horse that stood on her opposite side fondly, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she stared at the Chariot they had built for the youngest Ragnarsson. Her hands were beaten, bloodied, and sore from the hours of work they had put in to the gift over the past month and a half. Never having worked metal in such ways as she recently had; but she knew that Ivar's reaction would make it more than worth while.

"I think he will more than just like it Floki." Yara replied softly. "He will love it." Both her and the horse were startled as the spindly man scooped her up into a bone crushing hug with a laugh as he twirled her about before setting her back down with a kiss to her forehead.

"Thank you, little wolf." He beamed brightly as he ruffled her hair affectionately, to which Yara simply rolled her eyes and shooed his hand away. "I will go fetch Ivar while you finish shoeing the horse." Yara watched in amusement as Floki disappeared from sight; shaking her head as she returned to fitting the metal shoes to the stallions feet. The last of Floki's laughter being drowned out by the clang of her hammer against iron.

They didn't return until later that afternoon, Yara had been resting comfortably in the cool breeze beneath a tree as the newly armored gelding grazed quietly while they waited patiently near the Chariot. Staying just out of sight until the time was right. It brought a smile to Yara's face as she watched the happenings before her unfold. The pride and happiness that filled Floki's eyes as Ivar reveled in the sheer magnificence of the gift before him. 

The first genuine smile she had ever seen, appearing on Ivar's face as he asked if it was really for him. Floki nodding excitedly before signaling for her to bring the horse out, Ivar's eyes lighting up as Yara and the horse appeared before them, Floki hoisting him to his feet as he inspected the craftsmanship of the horses armor.

"You knock kneed old fool!" Ivar laughed excitedly. Running his fingers along the armor that shielded the horses face. "How did you do it?!"

"Oh, you do not have me to thank for this one, my dear Ivar." Floki replied with a grin as he looked to Yara. "For it was not me who nearly broke my hands trying to make it perfect." He added, moving to help him up into the Chariot as Yara started hooking the horse to it, attaching the reigns last and handing them up to Ivar. The look of sheer joy and wonder never leaving his his face. Sapphire eyes noting the bandages on her hands as she held out the helmet for him to take.

"Well than, it seems only fair that you accompany me." He stated, tilting his head in confusion as she stepped back with a grin before disappearing; re-appearing a few seconds later having mounted a second horse. Circling the chariot with a wide mischievous grin.

"You have to catch me first." Turning she trotted away on her own steed, Floki laughing as Ivar struggled briefly to get his bearings on the chariot before taking off after her. They made several laps around the property, Floki cheering excitedly as they thundered by before Ivar turned down a different path. Yara slowing her horse to a walk as she caught up to him, walking in silence for several miles before they reached the clearing atop the hill that overlooked Kattegat. Tying the horses before sitting at the edge of the small cliff that overlooked the Harbor. A comfortable silence filling the air as they watched the sun make it's decent for the evening; turning the sky vibrant shades of gold and red.

"Thank you." The words had caught her off guard to say the least as she turned her attention to look at Ivar. His blue gaze fixed on the setting sun as he spoke. "For helping Floki...you did not have to." He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, shooting her a questioning glare when she started laughing.

"I helped because I wanted to, Ivar." She replied with a soft smile as she looked at him. "Also, Floki might be the greatest boat builder who ever lived, but he is terrible at working metal." She snorted in amusement, holding her hands out in front of her for a brief moment before letting them drop to her lap. 

"Besides, it is the least I could do after everything the two of you have done for me." She shrugged, wincing a little as Ivar took her left hand; removing the bandages carefully to inspect the damage. His thumb running over the backs of her bruised knuckles, noting every cut and burn carefully. The roughness to his hands brushing against her skin sending a small shiver down her spin. Turning her head away quickly as she felt the blush burning it's way on to her cheeks as his thumb ran down her bare ring finger lightly before releasing it from his grasp, turning his gaze back out over the water.

"There will be hundreds of ships arriving soon, as we prepare to sail for Wessex." Ivar stated, glancing at Yara out of the corner of his eye. "Jarls, Warlords, Viking Kings...the greatest Army ever seen." He sighed.

"I imagine it will prove to be an impressive sight." Yara stated.

"Have you ever seen a Viking Army before?" Ivar questioned curiously, watching as she shook her head in response. "That will change." Yara gave a small smile at his response as she stared out over the horizon, closing her eyes as she tried to image what it would look like. Never having seen anything more than the tiny merchant boats that use to dock for trade back in her old village, and of course the ships that Floki had been working so tirelessly on; but never had she had the pleasure of seeing one on the water.

"It is truly a magnificent sight."

Yara's breath caught in her throat as the sound of his voice --which had become dangerously close to her ear-- took her by surprise. Having become so distracted by her imagination, that she was unaware Ivar had shifted so that he was angled behind her, hand tucking away the loose strands of hair that had fallen from her braids on the ride up here. Blue eyes watching her reaction intently as his fingers brushed against her neck gently. Her body's first instinctive reaction being to tense at any form of contact, but slowly she relaxed as the fingers trailed from neck to collarbone and back again.

A small smirk tugged at Ivar's lips as she seemed to be fighting a losing battle against leaning into his touch. Giving in eventually as she leaned her shoulder back into his chest, fingers trailing up the opposite side of her neck, settling underneath her chin as he turned her face toward his own. Sapphire gaze fixed on her lips as his thumb traced along her bottom one gently; her own Emerald eyes watching him intently as he leaned forward, closing the gap between them as his lips brushed her own gently. Her chest rising and falling a little faster as he spoke, voice low and raspy as the words rolled off his tongue like silk, making her heart beat in such a frenzy against her rib cage that she was sure by now he could hear it.

"You have never been kissed before...have you?" Ivar questioned.

Yara could feel the heat rising to her face as she shook her head in reply, opening her mouth to speak only to be silenced by Ivar's lips against her own, earning him a small gasp at the sensation it sent surging though her body. Eyes closing as she allowed his lips to guide her own as she turned herself toward him. His strong hands pulling her to straddle his lap effortlessly as her own found their way around his neck. 

Ivar grinned into the kiss, one hand finding it's way into her hair as the other pressed against her lower back, bringing her closer as he shifted; his hips rolling beneath her. Stealing his opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth as she gasped, relishing in the small moan the action provoked, her fingers locking themselves in his hair as the kiss deepened. Everything around them seeming to fade away as they became lost in one another. Never hearing the quiet footsteps that approached until it was already too late.

Yara's startled screams were silenced by a large hand covering her mouth as she was yanked from Ivar's lap. Panic taking hold of her as he slumped backward onto the ground, unconscious. Another man moving to bind her hands as her captor gagged her before pulling something over her head to shield her vision. Struggling against their grasp on her as they drug her forward; a hard blow to the back of her skull eventually ending her fight as she was plunged into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been MIA! Hopefully the chapter made up for it? Aside from the cliff hanger...my bad!


	8. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED ON: 10/29/18  
> I am soooooooooooo SORRY I've been MIA on this recently! D: Life has been hectic, and I had a small incident of losing several pre-written chapters that didn't save. But I promise to try and get back on track with this story! I've missed writing on it. 
> 
> Huge thank you too the following for leaving comments and being so patient with my lack of updates!
> 
> [crazyevildru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyevildru/pseuds/crazyevildru)  
> [Thebonelesswife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebonelesswife/pseuds/Thebonelesswife)  
> Genevieve

It had been nearly a month since the night Yara was taken, but to Ivar, it still felt like yesterday. The sound of her screams still fresh in his mind, playing over and over again as it reeked havoc on his mind. He could not eat nor sleep, knowing that between himself, his brothers and Floki, that they had scoured every inch of Kattegat and most of the outlying areas surrounding it; coming up empty handed. Their searches not even yielding so much as a clue to who might have taken her.

But Ivar had his suspicions. 

Her father having disappeared during the night a few days after her disappearance…which was fortunate for him, as Ivar had struck out on the War Path. Hells bent on destroying the person who took her; or gave the order. But now they were nothing more than empty handed and that hadn’t been boding well for anyone that had to deal with Ivar on a personal level.

“Ivar…” Helga sighed in annoyance, pulling the axe from the wall of her and Floki’s small home for what seemed like the millionth time that day. “I love you dearly, Ivar, and you are always welcome here…but if you put one more hole in my wall…I will bury this axe in your skull myself.”

Ivar simply rolled his eyes in annoyance as he took the axe and put it back in it’s respective place on his belt. Crossing his arms tightly over his chest as he took to staring out the small window instead. Watching as the sun set on yet another day.

“We will find her.” Helga reassured, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You do not know that.” Ivar snapped in response, shrugging her hand off as he continued to scowl out the window. Helga opened her mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by Floki’s presence as he opened the door; Ivar’s attention quickly turning to him, though he was sure to conceal the eagerness that consumed him. But Helga already knew by the look on Floki’s face that the trip had not been a successful one.

“We will try again tomorrow…” Floki stated quietly as he hung up his things. But Ivar knew it would be the same result. Just as it had been everyday nearly the last month.

His nerves were frayed and his temper was dangerously close to exploding; sure to take down anything or anyone that dared to stand in it’s path. Floki nodded briefly to Helga, urging her to leave them as he took a seat across from the youngest Ragnarsson.

Things falling quiet as Helga left them alone in the small house. Time ticking by slowly as Floki watched the range of emotions that flashed behind the cold Sapphire gaze of Ivar the Boneless.

“What is the point of even trying!?” Ivar finally snapped. “What is the point if we don’t even know where to look anymore? For all we know, they could be half way across the sea by now! Or worse, she could be- …”

Ivar stopped, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit into the skin of his palms painfully. His chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as the anxiety of the unfinished sentence gripped him tight. Floki watching as all the pent up anger and frustration that Ivar had been holding in for so long, slowly turned into fear and uncertainty.

“What if she’s dead, Floki?”

“Ivar…” Floki shook his head as he knelt before him.

“What if she dead, and it’s my fault because I could not protect her!” The sadness and despair that filled Ivar’s eyes was enough to nearly break Floki’s heart in two. Ivar was like a son to him, and it pained him to see him suffer. Especially when he knew how strongly the poor boy felt for Yara. Even if he had not admitted it yet…Floki could see it in his eyes.

The older man sighed as he pulled Ivar’s head against his chest. “She is not dead, my dear Ivar.” He reassured as Ivar’s shoulders shook with silent sobbs. “Yara is a strong girl, and where ever she is…she will fight to survive. I promise you, by the Will of the Gods, we will find her.”

Ivar pulled away, swiping a hand over his face quickly before running it through his hair roughly. His emotions once again stowed tightly away as he shook his head. His gaze turning cold once again as he looked up at Floki.

“Stop making me promises that you cannot keep.”

———————————————–

Their journey was long and tiresome…taking till the middle of the third week before they finally reached their destination; Helgan. A small Slaver Village located near the coastline, on the road to Skara. It was usually no more than a three day ride from Kattegat, but her captors had been careful to stay off the main roads and cover their tracks as they moved her. Pushing through the dense forest as they skirted along back roads and paths around other small villages. Knowing well that there would be a manhunt for whoever had taken her.

Yara’s feet ached something terrible from all the walking she had done and her wrists throbbed from the ropes that bound them just a little to tight. Rubbing the flesh raw as it bit in to it. She was covered head to toe in bruises and cuts from the countless falls she’d taken behind the horse she was made to walk behind.

She was filthy, hungry, and exhausted from the lack of sleep. Weary that she was to be raped or murdered if she nodded off for more than a few minutes at a time. But aside from the occasional physical abuse towards her stubbornness; they had not laid a hand on her otherwise, and now she finally understood why.

A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she was brought down the docks of the small Village. Two men moving aside as she was shoved into a seemingly abandoned shack roughly, the urge to be sick growing stronger as she spotted two men sitting at a table. Noting that one of them was none-other than the man she was forced to call her father.

“See, just as promised.” Gunnbjorn smiled sickly as he gestured to her. “Now, shall we discuss price?”

Yara tensed as the man seated across from her father stood. His form towering over her small frame as he inspected every inch of her closely. Forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut tightly in disgust as his large meaty hands grabbed here and groped there. The man grunting finally, seemingly pleased with his inspection as he took a step back.

“And you are certain of her maidenhood?” He questioned Gunnbjorn seriously, the deep gravelly voice startling her almost as much as his question as her green eyes sprang open. Wide with shock as she stared – disgusted – between the two men.

“You cannot–” The force of the blow that interrupted her sentence was strong enough it nearly broke her jaw. Sending her backwards onto the floor. Leaving her stunned as she touched spot that now throbbed furiously, the taste of metal filling her mouth. Her gaze narrowed as she glared up at the man; hand still pressed to the cheek that had likely already begun bruising as he talked down to her.

“You will not speak in my presence, Slave. Not unless instructed otherwise. Or next time, I will make sure I break that pretty little your jaw of yours.” The man stated coldly before returning his attention to Gunnbjorn impatiently.

“Well?”

“I am positive.” Her father stated matter of factly. His grin sickening as she stared down at her.

Yara’s heart all but fell into her stomach at his words…so this was his answer for finally ridding himself of her. He was to sell her off as a slave; getting twice the coin for her maidenhood still being intact. Which is more than he’d ever get for marrying her off.

“It is settled then.” The slaver answered. Yara watching as another girl, not much older than herself, stepped forward with a large bag of coin and handed it over to her no good excuse of a father, who never even so much as batted an eye. Let alone speak an sort of farewell as he left with his earnings. Selling off what was supposed to be his Kin like she was worth nothing more than a farm cow.

He just simply smirked as he stepped around her. The smug look on his face stating everything he needed to say. ‘I won.’

Yara barely had time to process what was happening, let alone think, as the slaver hauled her to her feet and thrust her into the waiting arms of two older women.

“Prepare her.”


	9. The Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED AS OF: 11/9/2018 
> 
> CHAPTER NOTES: The unknown language/accent used by the young girl and older woman, Agnes, is Gaelic/Scottish. 
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Mentions of prostitution.
> 
> SHOUTOUTS: [Thebonelesswife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebonelesswife/pseuds/Thebonelesswife)

The days seemed to pass by almost painfully slow now as Floki and Ivar's brothers traveled to some of the nearby towns in search of answers to Yara's whereabouts. Leaving Ivar behind -- much to his dislike -- in Kattegat with Helga; should Yara or Gunnbjorn happen to turn up in their absence. 

It had taken much convincing on Floki's part to convince the ill tempered Ragnarson to stay behind and the more complaints he heard, courtesy of Sigurd, about how pointless all this searching was and how the girl was most likely dead; he felt it had been a wise decision. 

At this point in their now three day journey, Floki was wondering why they even brought him along? Aside from the fact that Aslaug had insisted, but his negative attitude towards the searching was wearing on everyone's last nerve.

"Why is it you must complain so much, Sigurd?" Ubbe sighed in frustration as they stopped to water their horses. "If you do not wish to come, go.home."

"All I am saying, Brother, is this is pointless." Sigurd replied, rolling his eyes in annoyance at his older brother. "If she was still in or around Kattegat, we would have found her by now...she's probably dead or already been sold off as a Slave, and Ivar just needs to accept it already. Problem solved, we all get to go home."

"Sigurd, do us all a favor...shut up." Floki stated with a warning look. Forced to bite back on his rising temper when the boy shoved past him, mumbling under his breath.

"What if he is right, Floki?" Hvitserk questioned quietly. Watching as Floki ran a frustrated hand over his face several times.

"She is not dead." Floki stated firmly. "Do not ask how I know...I just...she is alive somewhere. I can feel it."

"We trust you, Floki." Ubbe reached out, clasping the older man’s shoulder tightly and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We may have our differences with Ivar, but he is our brother. We will search as long as we have to if it will put his mind at ease."

Floki had started to reply when the conversation was interrupted by a sudden shout from Sigurd, not far from where they stood by the small stream. The three men exchanging a confused glace before heading toward where they heard his voice. Pushing through branches and brush, eventually stumbling upon a small clearing within the woods. Evidence that it had recently been occupied was laid out before them as Sigurd nudged a half burned log with the toe of his boot.

"What do we have ourselves here?" Floki smirked as he knelt down to investigate some of the tracks that had been left imprinted in the earth. "I think we may have finally found what we've been looking for."

"How can you be so sure? Anyone could have camped here." Sigurd shrugged.

"While that is possible," Floki moved carefully along the ground, inspecting foot prints and other markings around the camp. "No one camps this far off the main road unless they do not wish to be found." Pleased with his findings, he stood and held out a small piece of frayed rope, grinning from ear to ear.

"It is also not likely that anyone would keep their guest bound, either."

 

\-----------------------------------------------

 

"Please, Miss...ye have to eat somethin’." A young red headed girl begged quietly as she held the small plate of food out to Yara. Flinching as she shoved it away again roughly, a scowl fixed to her face. The girl frowned in response. "Please... Master will not be happy if he finds out." 

But Yara simply ignored her...she would sooner die than be forced to live the rest of her life like this. The girl gave an exasperated sigh before standing and muttering something in a language that Yara did not recognize before disappearing. A much older woman reappearing in her place not long after.

"Up with ye." She snapped, grabbing hold of Yara's arm roughly as she yanked her to her feet. The amount of strength the old woman possessed was startling to her as she drug her forward into the front room and sat her down a another table. "Damn Danes." 

"If ye will not listen to the other girls, than ye best be listenin' to yer Elders; girl. Am I to be understood?" Yara nodded stiffly in response.

The woman stood beside her, one hand planted firmly on her hip and the other pointing to the plate of food before her on the table. Her wrinkled features scowling sternly, making Yara more than a little uncomfortable as she reluctantly took a bite of food. Her stomach grumbling as it hit bottom, greedily demanding more at the first real taste of food she'd had in weeks. The woman patted her head with a smirk, earning a growl as Yara narrowed her fiery green gaze up at the woman.

"Now, that was not so hard, was it?" Yara continued to glare, but shoveled down the rest of the plate regardless. "Ma name in Agnes." She introduced as she busied herself around the room. "I am charged with preparin' ye girls an makin' sure ye understand the rules." Yara watched with curiosity as the woman readied a large tub and some other items before clearing the now empty plate and cup from the table. She point to the tub. Yara frowned.

"Strip." The woman demanded firmly. "Or should I do it for ye?" She cocked an eyebrow, the corners of her lips tugging up into an amused grin as Yara's own frown deepened. Reluctantly undressing herself before climbing into the water and drawing her knees up to her chest tightly. The woman raised a questioning brow as she caught sight of the scars the littered the young girls body, but she didn't question it as she started to wash away the dirt and grime that covered her from head to toe.

"First rule, is ye are required to bathe daily." She stated, dumping a small bowl of water over the dark head of hair, Yara sputtering as the water ran over her face as the older woman quickly began working in an oily substance that smelled of lavender and other herbs before dousing her with water again.

"Here," A finely wrinkled hand appeared in front of her holding a chunk of sheep's milk soap. "Wash yer'self." Yara did so reluctantly as the woman continued to talk. "Second rule -- don't forget yer face -- do as yer told without question. Back talkin’ or speak outta turn, 'specially 'round the Master, will earn ye'll the beatin' of a lifetime...somethin' I'm judgin' ye understand well enough." Yara nodded slightly as she handed the soap back, frowning as more water was dumped over her.

"That's really all ye need know." The woman stated, motioning for Yara to step out of the tub. Drying her off quickly before pulling a thin linen shift over her head and sitting her back down at the table where she began combing through her hair. 

"Jus' do what is asked of ye, and ye'll be fine." She patted her shoulder gently. "First times always the hardest." She sighed, gathering up her things and giving Yara a sympathetic, but hopeful, look. "I will be back later tonight to fetch ye."

Yara watched in stunned silence as the woman, left the room swiftly; locking the thick door behind her without another word. Leaving Yara to her own thoughts. She knew what was to happen...she had heard stories her whole life of places like this. Stories of Slavers who not only sold women like livestock, but who also sold their bodies for the profits of pleasure and she was at the top of every mans list.

She fought back the tears of anger that threatened to fall as she closed her eyes tightly; praying to the Gods for this not to be her fate. Praying that they would help her find a way out of this...protect her...keep her safe. Knowing good and well that she would never make it out of this situation alive otherwise.

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

Agnes returned later that night as promised, ordering Yara to eat once more before binding her hands in front of her and leading her from the building she'd been kept in for the past few days and toward the outskirts of the little village. 

Torches lit the path in front of them and soon they reached a well lit clearing that held a large platform and a number of larger tents that were sure to serve as rooms for the evenings events. The platform was lined with a dozen or more young girls like herself and Yara froze in her tracks at the sight; causing the older woman to stumble slightly before turning to give her a stern look. Her expression quickly softening as she noted the fear in the young girls eyes.

"Dinna fret, Lass." Agnes reassured, gently taking Yara's face between her hands. Stern brown orbs staring into emerald green for a moment before glancing somewhere out into the darkness behind her.

"I dinna believe much in the Gods as I use to, but I pray they're watchin' over ye tonight." She whispered quietly, tugging her arm as they started walking again, leading them up onto the platform with the other girls. Agnes gave her one final reassuring grin before disappearing from sight.

It wasn't too soon after that they were surrounded by strangers; being groped and touch as they went about inspecting each girl until they found one to their liking...Yara felt as though she was going to be sick. Her body trembling violently with cold and fear as her mind raced for a solution or means of escape. Eventually becoming so lost in her own thoughts and attempts to block out the men who were touching her, that she barely noticed the commotion that had broke out at the opposite end of the platform; that is, not until she felt the near bone crushing grip on her upper arm that pulled her from the platform and into the dark.

"Run!"

Yara didn't question it as they ran through the darkness and toward the treeline. Her heart pounding faster as the sounds of chaos erupted behind them in the clearing as they disappeared into the trees; but they didn't stop there. 

Her rescuer gripped her arm tighter as they pushed forward, deeper and deeper into the woods until they broke through into a clearing on the opposite side. Stopping just short of a small cliff that overlooked the seas below them. Yara took a step backward, spinning around only to be caught against the chest of whoever had just saved her from an unsavory fate, only to be pushed closer toward the edge in return as shouting broke the silence within the forest behind them. Voices and shouting growing closer by the second.

"Are you insane?!" Yara shouted with a horrified expression as she looked up at the hooded figure, their face well hidden even in the growing moonlight. She dug her heels into the ground as hard as she could, but it was of little use as she was picked up and nearly crushed against the hooded figures chest.

"Do you trust me?" The deep voice asked.

Every logical thought that raced through her mind screamed "NO!" But the words that exited her mouth were of an entirely different nature. Coming out just barely above a whisper as she closed her eyes.

"Yes."

And without another word, they were plummeting toward the frigged waters below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yara has been rescued! YAY! I mean she's currently plummeting off a cliff side into the sea with an unknown hooded figure, but YAY! Any guesses on who our hooded knight in shining armor might be?! Will it be someone she knows, or a total stranger? 
> 
> Stay turned to find out!
> 
> Also, I know it's kinda short...but what do you think of Agnes' character? Would she be someone you'd be interested in seeing more of in this story? Let me know!


End file.
